


rarely pure and never simple

by witching



Series: the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it. [2]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Banter, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Silly, Smut, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 07:36:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19436872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witching/pseuds/witching
Summary: snippets of some of the trial-and-error process that took place between chapter 1 and chapter 2 of "being drawn out," including: sex research, awkward conversations, domestic bliss, goofy sex, decent sex, etc.





	1. Chapter 1

Aziraphale and Crowley were both equally surprised to learn that the internet held countless guides outlining how to talk dirty – all for free! Not that money was an object for them, but it was quite baffling to them both that people were just giving away this kind of advice without even charging for it. In any case, it was mighty helpful in conducting research.

"Keep it simple," Crowley read studiously from the screen in front of him. "Good advice, I reckon."

Aziraphale nodded his head, raised his eyebrows. "Yes, dear," he said, "but keep  _ what _ simple? What is it I'm supposed to do, exactly?"

Turning to face the angel, pocketing his phone, Crowley reached out and grabbed both of Aziraphale's hands in his own. "Just tell me what you want," he said softly. "Tell me how to please you, and – and tell me how it feels. And tell me…" he swallowed nervously around a lump in his throat before continuing. "Well, this one's less of a foundational aspect of dirty talk and more of a personal preference."

"What is it? You know you can say anything," Aziraphale soothed, "I want to do this right for you."

Crowley cleared his throat. "Sometimes I want you so bad I could cry," he nearly whispered, averting his eyes from the angel's face. "And even though I love you right to death, there's just a bit of me that thinks, well. Isn't that pathetic? Me being a demon and all, and being so… so  _ desperate _ for it?"

"I don't think that's pathetic at all," Aziraphale murmured.

"Of course  _ you _ don't," Crowley answered in a tone which indicated that the angel had said something marginally stupid. He took a seat next to Aziraphale, still avoiding his gaze. "But I think about… what Hastur would say, you know?"

Aziraphale furrowed his brow deeply and pursed his lips. "I don't think Hastur should be involved in any way," he said firmly but gently. "Except maybe as a safeword; I hear it's good to have one that instantly turns you off."

"Ugh, no, ew," Crowley replied, wrinkling his nose. "He's not a part of any of it, angel. I just mean… in theory, you know, according to what I'm…  _ meant _ to be like, it's a bit… humiliating."

"What is?"

Crowley inhaled deeply, unnecessarily, to give himself room to mull over his response as well as to steady his nerves. "It's humiliating," he mumbled, his cheeks flushed dark red, "for me to be so  _ horny _ for an  _ angel." _

Aziraphale tucked two fingers under the demon's chin, guiding him to look up and meet his eyes, which were wide and round and brimming with sympathy. Crowley had expected the angel to laugh, or to be offended by the implications of his statement, or to tell him he was being silly, but he just gave him that look, the one that said  _ I love you _ and  _ I accept you _ and  _ I support you _ and  _ I forgive you _ all in one. He released Crowley's chin, moving to cup his cheek gently.

"My love," Aziraphale said, as if he were talking to an injured baby animal, "my dearest one. To be entirely honest, I don't care a whit what anyone in Hell has to say about us. Or anyone in Heaven, or on earth. What do  _ you _ want?"

"I want you to rub it in," Crowley confessed at last. "That you're the one in control, and I'm just… an easy lay who'll do anything for you."

The angel wrinkled his brow again. "You're not, though. I love you."

Crowley couldn't help leaning in to press a quick kiss to Aziraphale's lips. "I know you do," he replied fondly, "and I love you, more than anything. But it's just – I don't know, you don't have to be  _ mean _ about it, but you could just remind me, you know? Remind me how thoroughly I belong to you.”

“I don’t want you to feel degraded, Crowley.”

“No, it’s not about that, it’s – it’s – it’s about security. I give myself up to you completely, because I trust you, because we love each other.”

Aziraphale looked concerned and altogether unconvinced. “And I’m supposed to use that trust to – to what, make fun of you? To mock you for loving me?”

Crowley pondered it for a moment, frowning, trying to put it into terms Aziraphale would understand better. “Don’t think of it as mocking, it’s more like… teasing. The way I tease you for your clothes even though I love them, or the way you tease me for being scared of spiders even though you love taking them outside for me. It’s just like that: you tease me for how bad I want it, but you still give it to me.”

He watched as the angel’s eyes lit up ever so subtly with understanding, the confused and anxious lines of his face smoothing out. “I can do that,” Aziraphale said simply, nodding his head.

Overtaken by an irresistible urge again, Crowley surged forward and pulled Aziraphale into another kiss, deeper and more passionate. “Thank you,” he murmured sincerely, pulling back only slightly to get the words out before diving into the kiss once more. 

Aziraphale responded to the demon's kiss, parting his lips in an invitation, moving a hand to cradle the back of Crowley's head. A few seconds later, he breathed a quiet laugh, smiling against Crowley's mouth, and Crowley pulled away again, his brow furrowed.

"What's funny?"

"'Keep it simple,'" the angel muttered, rolling his eyes. "As if we ever could."


	2. Chapter 2

“Crowley?”

Hearing Aziraphale’s voice float in from the adjacent room, Crowley set down his plant mister and popped his head in. “Yes?”

The angel looked up from his book, his brow wrinkled deep in thought. “I’ve been doing some reading,” he said slowly, “and I seem to be having a bit of trouble with – well, with the language.”

Crowley strolled across the room to lean over Aziraphale’s shoulder, glancing at the page in front of him for a fraction of a second. “It’s English, angel.”

Laughing, Aziraphale gave him a gentle smack on the arm. “I know it’s English, you stupid – I mean the terminology.”

“How d’you mean?” Crowley moved around the back of the angel’s chair, perching on the armrest to look at the book, then deciding it wasn’t quite comfortable enough as a seat; he turned and fell back unceremoniously into the angel’s lap, awkwardly rearranging his limbs before settling in with a sigh.

Giving no indication that he’d been inconvenienced by the demon sitting on him, Aziraphale effortlessly wrapped an arm around him and looked back down at his book. “I mean, they just use so many euphemisms, I can hardly follow which parts are where. I think I get bits of it – ‘throbbing member’ is a penis, no?”

“Yes, it is.”

“And obviously, I know what an erection is.”

“Obviously.”

“But,” – Aziraphale pointed out an especially egregious paragraph – “why must his ‘Cupid’s arrow’ be ‘plunged’ into her ‘moist cavern?’ Can they not simply say what they mean?”

Crowley giggled with unbridled glee. “Come on, angel, you’re a lover of literature. Did Oscar Wilde always simply  _ say  _ what he meant?”

“‘Experience is merely the name men give to their mistakes,’” Aziraphale replied, a sardonic tilt to his smooth recitation. “‘The very essence of romance is uncertainty.’ ‘It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious.’ ‘There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.’”

“‘Quotation is a serviceable substitute for wit,’” Crowley shot back good-naturedly. 

"Oh, you know what I mean," Aziraphale groaned. "Why can't they just say penis and vagina? They're perfectly good words."

Turning to look up at the angel, Crowley put on his most understanding face and patiently explained, "They're not  _ sexy _ words, though."

Aziraphale looked even more confused. "What makes a word sexy or not sexy?"

"Dunno," the demon said with a shrug, "s'just a vibe, I guess. Stiff medical terminology is a no-go."

“Help me out, then. Give me examples of sexy words, please.”

Crowley thought about it, stroking his chin for dramatic flair. “Cock is a sexy word,” he said pensively. “Hmm, and… ass, in certain contexts. Cunt and tits, we could experiment with those in different combinations. But it’s mostly about the anticipation. Less is more, you know?”

Mentally taking notes, Aziraphale frowned deeply and nodded his head. “So… so it’s better to be  _ less  _ explicit?”

“Sometimes, yeah,” Crowley replied. “Like, if I told you right now that I want to suck your cock, that’s a turn on, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but gave a little smug smile at the way the angel’s face reddened. “But if I told you right now that I’ve got something fun planned for this evening,” he continued suggestively, “then you spend all day thinking about it, and by the time I get to you, I barely even have to do anything.”

“But – but what about, er, what you said? About telling you all those things?”

“Keep it simple,” the demon shrugged. His eyes flitted around the room for a moment, as if he were looking for an idea to appear to him, and then he brightened suddenly, craning his neck and pulling Aziraphale down into a deep kiss. When they parted, Crowley licked his lips, relaxed back into his position with a contented sigh, and looked up at the angel with his eyes dark, pupils blown wide. “You taste ssso good,” he murmured hotly.

Aziraphale blinked once, twice, relishing the lingering taste of Crowley on his tongue, the way the demon looked at him like he was the only person who mattered. “Was that it?” he asked quietly. “That was you keeping it simple, right?”

“That was it,” Crowley answered fondly. “And it worked,” he added with a grin, wiggling playfully to rub his ass lightly against the angel’s erection.

“Yes, yes, good job,” Aziraphale deadpanned, “pat yourself on the back. We’re married, my dear, it’s not a secret that you know how to get me in the mood.”


	3. Chapter 3

Waking up, Crowley found the house eerily silent, and it took him seconds to find the note that Aziraphale had cleverly pinned to the bathroom door, which read:  _ Crowley, I’ve gone out for a short nip into town. I’ll be back quick as a wink, don’t you fret. There’s water in the kettle so you can have some chamomile to relax, if you need. With all my love, Aziraphale. _

“Perfect,” the demon hissed softly to himself, and went to get dressed.

When Aziraphale arrived home only a few short minutes later, he used a small miracle to put away the things he’d acquired in town, then made his way back up to the bedroom. “Oh,” he said in mild surprise when he saw Crowley lying in bed awake. “I thought you’d still be sleeping.”

Crowley gave an exaggerated pout. “I would be, but my bed was cold.”

Rolling his eyes, Aziraphale leaned against the door and tilted his head to appraise the image of the demon. “Really, my dear, you slept without me for thousands of years.”

“Don’t like it,” Crowley whined, burrowing under the blanket further, but he reached one arm out to make a grabbing gesture toward the angel. 

Aziraphale tutted gently, just for show, as he obliged Crowley and climbed into bed next to him. Crowley pouted even harder, and the angel sighed as he shifted his weight to pull the blanket over himself, smiling when Crowley immediately scooched closer and clung to him like a spider monkey. Upon pulling him closer, though, Aziraphale was surprised by the demon’s tongue pressing into the skin of his throat, the new and strange texture of his clothing, the hardness resting against his thigh.

“You’ve been busy,” the angel murmured, amused. “What on earth are you wearing?”

“It’sss lace,” Crowley mumbled against his skin. “You don’t like it?”

Turning slightly to meet the demon’s lips with his own, Aziraphale pressed a warm hand into the small of his back. “I didn’t say that,” he said between messy kisses. “I’d like to see it, though.”

Crowley blinked, and the covers were gone. “It’ll get hot in here soon, anyway,” he muttered as he moved to straddle the angel’s thighs. “So, what’s the verdict?”

“It’s nice,” Aziraphale breathed, running his hands up Crowley’s sides, getting a feel of the fabric. It was a black bodysuit, all sheer and delicate, and soft, not scratchy like lace sometimes could be. “Any particular reason for it?”

Leaning down, pressing the length of his torso against Aziraphale’s, Crowley whispered hotly into his ear, “The reason is that I want you to fuck me, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled, turning his head to kiss Crowley again, catching him on the chin accidentally and letting out a soft laugh. “You know you don’t have to do anything special for that,” he said, and then added, “Right now?”

“Yes, right now,” Crowley huffed. “Why would I want to wait?”

“Well, it’s just…” Aziraphale cleared his throat, shifting to sit up a bit without dislodging Crowley from his lap. “I was hoping we could put it off until tonight. I rather thought you might enjoy the, er, anticipation.”

Crowley lost his breath suddenly, and a slow grin spread across his face. “Oh, angel, that sounds like a great plan.” He straightened his back, his fingers splayed out across the angel’s chest, and beamed like the sun. “So, breakfast?” Hopping down from the bed in one smooth movement, Crowley miracled his hair out of his face and headed for the kitchen, leaving the room without another word.

Aziraphale watched him go, speechless and frozen, and thanked his lucky stars that Crowley had chosen not to put on real clothes.


	4. Chapter 4

The first time that theory bled into practice, it was what some would call an unmitigated disaster. Others might prefer to call it a comedy routine, a parody of sex, or a lesson in how not to turn your partner on. Crowley and Aziraphale called it a learning experience.

“We need a safe word,” Aziraphale said firmly, “for my own peace of mind.”

“Fine,” Crowley conceded, “but it’s _not_ Hastur. How about… jackfruit.”

“Jackfruit?”

Crowley nodded. “It’s a superfood. A miracle fruit, even. And completely unsexy.”

“Alright, that’ll do,” said the angel. “Now, how do we, erm, start?”

His eyes darkening, Crowley leaned in to kiss the angel, cupping his cheek gently. “You start by relaxing a bit, angel, and I’ll… well, I’ll do what you want.”

“I want you to undress,” Aziraphale said without hesitating.

Crowley took a step back, just to give himself enough room to disrobe, and got to work on all the buttons and zippers adorning his body. He looked up at Aziraphale’s face periodically, each time finding the angel’s gaze transfixed on his movements, and he felt his skin burn. When he was finally divested of all his clothes, he eyed the angel expectantly.

“Oh,” said Aziraphale after a long and uncomfortable silence. “Oh, I’m sorry, my dear, it’s just – I got distracted looking at you. You are a mesmerizing figure, you know that?”

Crowley laughed, his face flushed red. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “Now will you fuck me?”

“Oh, yes,” Aziraphale muttered, as if he’d just been reminded of an item he’d forgotten to put on his grocery list. “Yes, I would very much like to, er. Bend you over a table, my dear boy.”

Jerking back, Crowley choked on another laugh. “Where did you learn that?”

Aziraphale shrugged. “The internet.”

Shaking his head fondly, running a hand through his hair, the demon scoffed in disbelief. “You are… just too much, sometimes,” he said. “Only you could make ‘bend you over a table’ sound well and truly adorable.”

“No, that’s not the point,” the angel groaned miserably. “I don’t want to be adorable, I want to pound you into the mattress.”

Crowley stifled his laugh this time, not wanting to hurt Aziraphale’s feelings. “We’re on the same page there, angel. I want you to pound me into the mattress, for sure. But you’re – well, you sound like you’re reading from a script.”

“I’m trying to keep it simple,” Aziraphale pouted. “You’re aroused, aren’t you?”

“Course I am, you just said you wanted to pound me into the mattress. Just – put some heart into it, yeah?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know my dirty talk was being graded.”

“It’s – it’s not, it’s not, I’m sorry. I’m being overly critical. I’ll be quiet now.”

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley by the wrist and the waist and pulled him flush against his body, forcing the demon’s breath out in a small huff of surprise. He pressed a chaste kiss to the top of Crowley’s head, then his forehead, each of his cheeks, and finally his lips. Crowley melted into him, closing his eyes. 

“There now,” the angel murmured kindly, his hand sliding from Crowley’s waist down to his hard cock, stroking it with an almost cruel gentleness. Crowley whimpered softly, his knees buckling, and Aziraphale smiled. “You make such beautiful noises for me,” he cooed, “and I hardly even have to try.”

Taking several steps forward, the angel pushed Crowley down onto the bed and watched the rise and fall of his chest, his lips barely parted, as he undressed himself in front of the demon. Crowley tried his very best, but patience never was his strong suit, at least not in this arena. 

“Angel, please,” he whined, as Aziraphale took his time neatly folding his clothes. “Please hurry up.”

“And what if I don’t?” Aziraphale locked eyes with him, looking harsh. “Are you going to go find some other angel to sleep with? Maybe even a human, in your desperation?” Crowley simply groaned wordlessly, squirming under the heat of the angel’s gaze. “Quicumque vult,” Aziraphale muttered, under his breath but deliberately loud enough that Crowley could hear.

“Did you –” Crowley struggled to stifle another laugh. “Did you just insult me with medieval theology?”

Aziraphale bit his lip, turning red. “Too much?”

“Too much of _something,_ maybe,” the demon replied. “What else you got?”

“Slattern?”

“Nope.”

“Amoroso?”

“A tiny bit better.”

“Doxy?”

“No.”

Aziraphale wrung his hands in frustration. “I don’t know what you want from me. You _asked_ me for this, didn’t you? You wanted me to tease you for… for your wantonness?”

Crowley sat up straight, softening his expression. “I did,” he said gently, “and I’m sorry, you’re – you’re not doing it _wrong,_ it’s just – I should have specifically requested non-archaic terms.”

“I work best in archaic terms,” Aziraphale protested.

“I know you do,” said the demon, “but it’s not very arousing to be called a – a jillflirt, or a quean, or an Athanasian wench.” Seeing the angel open his mouth to respond, Crowley interrupted, “Or a strumpet, or a trollop, or a giglot.”

“Then what can I say?”

Pursing his lips, Crowley hummed in thought. “Slut,” he said after a pause. “It’s simple, it’s a classic.”

Aziraphale frowned, wrinkling his nose. “And that’s sexy? For me to call you a slut?”

“Only for you,” the demon said meaningfully, rising up onto his knees on the bed to come face-to-face with Aziraphale. He kissed the angel once, tenderly and without much heat, and pulled away whispering, “Only _your_ slut.”

Softening, Aziraphale gave him a smile. “Do you want me to try again?”

“Not right now,” Crowley said, shaking his head. “Let’s do it the old-fashioned way. I want to look you in the eyes and tell you I love you, if you don’t mind.”

“I certainly do not mind,” murmured the angel, surging forward to catch Crowley’s lips once more.


	5. Chapter 5

“I think I  _ will  _ like it,” Aziraphale said one day over lunch. “Once we figure out how to do it right, I mean.”

Crowley shook himself out of the trance he’d been in, staring at the angel as he ate. “You’ll like what?”

“The whole dirty talk thing,” Aziraphale explained. “I know you worry that you’re asking me to do too much for you, so I just wanted you to know, it’s for me as well. I want to do it; I think it will be worth it. I think it’ll be amazing, when we get it right.”

Crowley bit his lip, furrowed his brow, frowning deeply in thought, and then spoke slowly and tentatively. “What if I just, you know, showed you how to do it?”

Cocking his head to the side, Aziraphale considered this for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we could just – we could switch places. And I could lead by example, and you could sit back and soak up the knowledge.”

“That could be worth a try,” the angel said hopefully.

“D’you wanna try right now?” Crowley drummed his fingers lightly on the table. “I know good food always gets you a bit hot.”

Aziraphale nodded, laying a few bills down on the table.

On the ride home, the air thrummed with excitement from both sides, no more than two or three words passing between them until they had made it to the bedroom. Crowley gestured for the angel to sit on the bed, and Aziraphale obliged, Crowley soon joining him.

“Alright, angel,” he began sternly, “you want me to show you how it works?”

“Yes, I do believe so,” Aziraphale replied.

Crowley waved a hand and both their clothes were gone. “I know it’s more fun to do it ourselves, but this way saves time and effort. Since we’re trying something new. Now, you’ll stop me if you need, right?” 

He waited for Aziraphale to acknowledge his question with a hum of affirmation before moving, but as soon as he heard the angel’s “Mm-hm,” he set to work, gently pushing Aziraphale down onto the bed. His fingers traced light shapes over Aziraphale’s thighs, skimming teasingly close to his cock but never touching it.

“You like that, don’t you?” Crowley whispered suggestively, moving to play his fingers over the angel’s hips and waist. “Feeling me touch your skin, just thinking about what I’m going to do to you.” 

Aziraphale looked at him with his pupils blown wide and nodded his head. “What exactly  _ are  _ you going to do?” he asked with all the primness he could muster.

Crowley gave a wolfish grin before diving in to kiss him, licking hotly into his mouth, his hands planted on either side of the angel’s head. “I’m gonna make you see stars,” he murmured, only a hair’s breadth from Aziraphale’s lips. “You like to indulge, don’t you, angel? Like to feel good, so good you can’t ssstand it?”

“Yes,” the angel breathed reverently.

“Yes,” Crowley echoed. “So desperate for it, aren’t you? My angel, laid out for me, just begging to be touched. Begging to be inssside me.” He punctuated this last statement with a hand on the angel’s cock, stroking him smoothly, chuckling at the way he tried to buck his hips despite the weight of the demon mostly holding him down. 

“You’re so hard, maybe I’ll make you come just like this,” Crowley threatened idly, playing a thumb over the head of the angel’s cock. “What do you think, angel? Do you want to come right now, or would you rather fuck me?”

Aziraphale groaned, placing his hands on Crowley’s thighs. “I want you.”

“I’m right here, love. If you want something specific, you’ll have to ask for it.”

“I want –  _ ah  _ – Crowley, I want to fuck you, please,” the angel moaned, stuttering through the devious movements of Crowley’s hands.

Moving again to kiss him, Crowley lifted his weight from Aziraphale’s body, hovering on all fours above the angel with his knees bracketing his hips. “There, was that so difficult?” he murmured after pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Aziraphale’s throat. Without another word, he reached to position the angel’s cock and sank down onto it with a satisfied groan. 

“Shit, angel, that’s good,” the demon muttered distractedly, shifting forward. “You feel ssso good, love the way you fill me up.” 

Lifting his hips up, Crowley hissed at the drag of the angel’s cock before lowering himself again, relishing the sound of all the air leaving Aziraphale’s lungs, even as he lost his breath himself. Crowley soon established a rhythm, fucking himself on the angel’s cock, bearing his weight on one hand as the other moved to explore Aziraphale’s chest. He grazed his fingertips lightly across the angel’s collarbone, felt his whole body shiver at the contact, and then gently tweaked a nipple, smiling at the breathless gasp it elicited from Aziraphale.

“I can feel you getting close,” Crowley said, adding a slight shift to the angle of his movements to provide some friction for his own hard cock against the angel’s belly. “You gonna come for me, angel?”

Aziraphale panted desperately, thrusting upward to meet Crowley’s movements. He reached to stroke the demon’s cock without being asked, knowing that Crowley was also on the edge of coming, and muttered a soft something that could have been “Yes, Crowley, yes.”

The demon took the opportunity to do something wicked with his hips, pushing Aziraphale over the precipice with a low moan. Crowley came soon after, riding the angel through his orgasm, and then collapsed half on top of Aziraphale with a heavy sigh.

“Good, angel?” he mumbled tiredly, unwilling to speak in full sentences.

Aziraphale toyed with the demon’s hair absently, humming pleasantly. “Very good, my dear,” he murmured. “I think I get it now.”


End file.
